Three hours later, and the lights of Hull were receding in the winter fog off the stern of the ferry, and I was up on the deck in the frigid North Sea air.
The deck was empty except for a few smokers; not surprising, given the weather.
It takes a certain amount of dedication to step out into the lazy wind to light up, but nicotine addiction will do that to a man. Or woman; one of them was leaning on the rail downwind of me, eyeing me speculatively.
Finally:
“You’re not thinking of jumping, are you?”
“Not today, no.” I gave her a brief smile. “Thanks for asking.”
There’s something about ships; you talk to people you wouldn’t normally, and you talk in a more direct manner, a more flirtatious manner. Maybe it’s the isolation from the outside, the sensation of being in transit suspending you from the normal rules of the world.
You get it in planes as well, but being pinned in place like cattle for the slaughter dilutes the effect somewhat. The best of all is, of course, a train, a transcontinental perhaps. Except that nobody who’s anybody uses that for transport nowadays.
“Only I noticed that you’re not smoking.” She took a drag from her cigarette, the end flaring into red heat. “And I don’t really see much reason to be out here freezing brass monkeys if you don’t.”
“Got a bit claustrophobic belowdecks. And I’m not much for shopping.” I looked out over the water. “Besides, I like the water.”
“That was what I was worried about.” She smiled and extended a hand; I took it. “Reese.”
“Lee.”
And that’s another thing about these conversations; they’re first-name only. No need for entanglement if it doesn’t go further, and if it does...
But it won’t.
“Very Chinese.” Not a barb; just a brief flash of nicotine-induced humour.
“It’s a very fashionable nowadays. I’m actually a redhead.”
“Well-hidden, then.” She tapped the ashes off her cigarette, the flakes swirling wildly in the breeze. “So what’re you doing on this ferry? You don’t look like your usual stoner student.”
“Business trip.”
“Huh.” She cocked her head. “And you’re not flying?”
“You add up the hours you spend waiting for a flight and the travel time to and from an airport, you don’t lose much, driving. Besides, it doesn’t agree with me.” I turned back to the railing and leaned on it. “What about you?”
“I have some business interests there. And I live in Hull anyway, so...” A shrug. “I should probably reserve a cabin on this ferry. I’m here that often.” Was that an invitation in her eyes?
“You could decorate it to your tastes, then.”
“Yes. It gets a bit lonely, else. Claustrophobic, as you said.” A definite invitation. Any more explicit, and I was going to have to send back an RSVP done up in calligraphy.
“That’s a shame.”
Something shifted behind Reese’s eyes then.
“Girlfriend, huh?”
“Afraid so.”
A corner of her lip quirked up in an undecipherable smile, there and gone in a moment, as if she had discovered something that pleased her greatly. “So that’s the way it is.” She flicked her thumb expertly; the remains of her cigarette arced out over the side of the ship, whipped away into the grey water in an instant. “I hope you have a nice trip, Lee.”
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